


Angel in Silk

by romxnogersav



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Art, Dirty Talk, Escort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:15:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25555678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romxnogersav/pseuds/romxnogersav
Summary: The city of angels doesn’t always treat people kindly, and you are one of those unfortunate ones. A young Hollywood prostitute, your only goal is to make ends meet. Meeting Steve Rogers, a New York Art Buyer proves to be one of the best things, or does it? As luck would have it, he wants to hire you to be his escort for several business and social gatherings, over the course of a week. Where is that going to take you?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Beverly Hills Directions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first series/multi-chapter work I've written for the MCU! This work is a part of @arrowsandmixtapes ‘s Rom-Com challenge on Tumblr. The movie I picked was "Pretty Woman"! This fic is inspired by the movie and will follow certain points of the storyline, but a lot of the things will be altered to better fit the overall story I'm trying to tell. 
> 
> I hope you like this and decide to stick around!
> 
> Enjoy!💫

Your ears perked up, and your eyes fluttered open. The obnoxious sound from your alarm woke you up. You grunted and turned on your back. You reached for your phone, stopping the annoying sound. You checked the time, eight-thirty on the dot.

There goes another day, you thought and pulled the covers off of your body. You pulled yourself out of the bed, walked the small distance towards the bathroom, and once there, you stepped into the shower.

The water wasn't warm, cool at best. Yet, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing what a night you had ahead of you. Getting ready for your so-called "job" felt like a chore.

It almost felt like a necessity at this point. It wasn't like you chose to do this, it kind of chose you. If you could, you'd do anything, other than what you currently made money out of, but you guess luck wasn't on your side. Fairy tales, hopes, big city dreams, it was all a lie, reality didn't work that way, at least not for you. It pain rent, put food on the table, and for now, that was enough. You didn't have the luxury of choice, not at the point in life. Not when tomorrow, the streets of Los Angeles, homeless, starved. Choice wasn't something you could rely on, not in your position.

You tried to wash the nerves, the anxiety that tried to consume you, but it hardly worked, it never really did.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you dried your hair, before you made your way to your wardrobe, or what little space you kept your clothes in. You pulled a black lace lingerie set, a fairly new one. One, you spend quite the money on, so you could do your "job". After that, you looked through your clothes, until you found exactly what you were looking for. You put the tight, and rather short dress on then gave yourself a glance in the mirror.

You hated it, wanted to rip it off, but just like London had said, it got the job done. You pulled a pair of old mid-thigh boots and tugged at the material of the dress. It covered little, to nothing at all, reaching just under the curve of your butt. You brushed out your hair, letting it sit naturally, frame your face. You also put some light makeup on. You pulled a cardigan on, trying to cover yourself just a bit, and then you pulled your bag over your shoulder. You gave yourself one last glance in the mirror before you walked towards the front door.

Outside of your apartment, the smell of cigarettes and something else, stronger, greeted you. The hotel you and London were staying at was nothing short of a total dump. It housed all the wrong people. Junkies, alcoholics, ex-criminals, but what could you expect if you found yourself in that same place. More girls like you and your roommate lived there as well, prostitutes.

As you said, it wasn't as much of a choice as it was a necessity. As you said, it wasn't as much of a choice as it was a necessity. You needed the money. Coming into the big city wasn't something you though over, something you were a hundred percent sure in. Pretty soon after that, money got tight. It left you with no other choice, it was that, or you would have been as good as dead by now. So, you took the offer, and here you were a couple of months after, still trying to get used to it if you ever even did.

You were still new to this whole thing, a little inexperienced, even. London was providing as much help as she could. She had been doing this longer than you, so having her help, it meant a lot to you. When you found yourself in your current position, she was very open about explaining how things worked, after she offered you to try it.

It was strange, the first time. Selling your body for money, it wasn't something you ever expected to see yourself doing. Desperate times, called for desperate measures, though. You didn't enjoy it the first time, and you didn't enjoy it now. But you had to do it, just until you made enough to separate yourself from that kind of lifestyle.

You quickly exited the building and started walking towards the local bar, where you had no doubt London was. Just before you left the apartment, you checked the rent money, since rent was due today. What greeted you, though, was far more than what you expected. There were five bucks left off of the five hundred you had saved up. London had spent them all.

With a quick step, you walked the streets of Los Angeles. It was an unpleasant walk. You were still getting used to the looks some people threw at you as you walked past them. It was because of the way you looked, dressed. You kept your head high, though. If you started looking down at yourself the way those people did, what was the point of trying to do better in the future?

Soon enough, you reached the bar. You found your roommate cooped up with three other people, laughing her ass off, probably on the verge of getting high. When she spotted you, her face pulled into a grin, and she lifted her hands in invitation.

"Y/N, hey. Come sit with us," she cheered. You looked at her through anger, before you grabbed her hand, and dragged her away. "What the hell?" she slurred, almost yelled.

"That's what I thought, when I saw our rent, gone. What the hell, London?" you questioned, furious. You had barely made enough, with all the other things she spent her money on, and most of yours being spent on food.

"I just –" she dared to look regretful, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I needed it," she shrugged, which flared you off even more.

"Yeah, and Brock needed the money today, but here we are now," you sassed, which seemed to make her feel even worse than she already did because she looked at her shoes and exhaled. She wasn't a bad roommate, just a little reckless sometimes. She didn't think before she spoke before she acted, and it showed.

"Okay, look. We'll make some money tonight. I'm going to bust my ass, and we'll pay him tomorrow," she suggested, and you just shook your head at her. You swallowed past the anger in your throat. You didn't believe her, didn't want to at least. She'd been like that since you've known her, which, in all honesty, wasn't that long, but you still cared about her. Putting that garbage in her body wouldn't end well for her. Seeing her spend the money you barely made, sold yourself for. Money, you found yourself crying over sometimes, ones you wish you made under different circumstances didn't sit well with you.

You shook your head and exhaled again. "That's the last time, London. Or so help me God" you didn't finish your sentence, you were never one for ultimatums. "Let's get going." You grabbed her hand again, and together you started walking towards Hollywood Boulevard.

* * *

You were perked up against a tree, while London was pacing left and right, murmuring to herself, trying to spot someone she could get some money out of. It was a slow night, there wasn't anyone passing by that was looking to let off some steam, have a good night.

You were still pretty new to this whole thing, even though you have been in the business for a couple of months now. London was usually the one to pick which client you took, always hooking you first before she found her own. You were grateful, of course. It wasn't something you thought you'd be able to do yourself.

"Do you think I look okay?" you asked her out of nowhere, a bit unsure in the way you looked. You got a bit self-conscious sometimes, even though you knew you shouldn't. You couldn't help it, it's just the way you were.

She turned around and walked towards you. She stopped a foot or two before you, and her hand reached up. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear before she spoke.

"You look hot, yet cute. Don't you worry about it." She grinned at you and you smiled at her in turn. You were just about to ask her a question when the roar of an engine stopped the words from leaving you. Your friend's eyes shone before her pink painted lips pulled up into a smirk.

"Would you look at that?" her comment caught you off guard. You averted your gaze and turned to look in the direction she was looking at. What greeted you was far more than what you expected. Across the road, a beautiful sports car, black cherry color, made its' way to the side of the road. You immediately recognized it.

"Hold on, that's an Acura NSX" you gasped, your eyes going a bit wide.

"No, that's rent. And he's all yours. Go on, win him over. Call me later and take care, okay?" she gave you a quick hug before she pushed you a bit, and it took all of your willpower not to trip and fall over. You pulled the cardigan off, and slowly walked a couple of steps ahead, to where the car had been parked mare seconds ago.

You took a deep breath, bend down across the open window, and peeked into the car. Behind the wheel sat a gorgeous blond. He was wearing a dark blue suit, probably tailored to fit him like a glove. His hair was slicked back, his beard on full display for you to see.

You licked your lips before you spoke in a calm, flirtatious matter.

"Hey sugar, looking for a date?" he turned his head towards you, eyes trailing up to yours. A beautiful sky blue met your vision. He cleared his throat and shook his head a little.

"No, I'm actually looking for Beverly Hills. Mind giving me some directions?" he sounded innocent, gentle, but no man ever was, especially not to you. And a guy like him, expensive suit, a sports car? Yeah, innocent wasn't what he was.

"Sure thing. For ten bucks," his eyes widened just a little.

"That's ridiculous"

"Ohh, it's twenty now."

"That's…. You can't seriously expect me to pay you for directions. You can't do that."

"I can do just about anything, pretty boy. I ain't lost," you sassed, before you pulled yourself off of the window, getting to your full height. You leaned against the side of the car, waiting. If he thought you'd help him, just like that, he had another thing coming. He was taking out of your time, asking for your help. You worked hourly, and there was no secret what you did, he knew that. The littlest he could do was give you a couple of bucks for the trouble he was going to give you.

It didn't take long for him to swallow down his pride. "Okay, you win. Get in." you smiled to yourself, before you pulled open the door, and got into the car. He held out a fifty, and even before he had the opportunity to say something, you were already speaking.

"For half a hundred, I'd be your personal guide," you spared him a glance before you put your seatbelt and pocketed the money. You gave him the directions he needed, and then you engaged in light conversation, just for the sake of things not being awkward.

"So, what's your name?" he suddenly asked and you moved around in your seat a bit before you looked at him through your lashes. You thought for a while. Men never really cared, either way, they simply paid for your service, for giving them a couple of hours to dream about. They never wanted to know, they were what they wanted you to be, for as long as they were paying you.

You turned in your seat, looking straight at him, batting your lashes for effect. "What do you want it to?" you breathed out. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, before he tilted his head to the side as if telling you to not play games with him. Maybe he cared, or he was just playing nice. You just exhaled playfully, before you mumbled. "Y/N. My name is Y/N."

"Y/N." he repeated quietly as if trying to see how your name rolled off his tongue. It caused light goosebumps to rise on your arm. The conversation quickly shifted afterward. When you asked him where he was staying, you gave him directions to the hotel.

Most of the car ride after that, which wasn't very long, to begin with, was spent in silence. He'd ask you a question, and you'd answer in a sarcastic way, which either earned you a little smile or an eye roll. Even both, once.

You watched him out of the corner of your eyes, hoping he wouldn't know you did. The blond though, he was able to sense when he was being watched, so he smiled a little when you sensed you observing him.

He seemed like a nice, patient person. A bit tense on the seams though. There was evident tension in both his shoulders and on his face too. He looked like he needed to relax a little, let off some steam. You didn't know why, but he kind of gave you the workaholic vide. You might be wrong, though. One never knew.

A couple of minutes later, he pulled up in front of his hotel. The Regent Beverly Wilshire was gorgeous. The golden arc design at the front was exquisite, and the big windows that showed part of the lobby to the outside eye, made the architecture of the building look even more magnificent.

You were a prostitute, sure, but you were still able to appreciate beauty.

You exited the car and patiently waited for your companion to do the same. When he exited the vehicle and walked to your side, he stopped a few feet before you. You swallowed thickly and hooked a thumb behind you.

"I should probably get going," you said with a tiny smile on your face. He looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read before he searched your eyes. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and rocket himself of the balls of his feet, just like a little kid in trouble. You had to admit it was cute. He was a grown-ass man, an important figure if you had to guess, and he got uncertain and weird around women? It was kind of hard to believe.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he finally spoke up. "Are you going to be okay?" the question left him in a murmur, and you had to hold back a smile at that. You were pleasantly surprised to hear someone asking you that. No one was ever interested to know, you were doing your job, after all, using your body for money. Maybe he didn't even care, but it was the thought that counted, made you smile.

You nodded and added a light "yeah" because he didn't look too certain at first. You pulled your cardigan on and were just about to bid him a good-bye when he suddenly spoke again.

"A hundred an hour, you said?" it sent you back to your conversation in the car. He asked how much you made, and he was naïve to think you made a hundred a night.

"Yeah" you answered in expectation, waiting to see what else he was going to say. He didn't even think things through before his raspy voice filled your ears again.

"If that's the case, then, I was wondering if you would mind accompanying me to my room? We could maybe talk for a while," he suggested, voice soft. He acted like a gentleman, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't amuse you. People like that were incredibly rare as it was, in your line of work, nonexistent even.

You were tempted to accept his offer, you really were. You needed the money you could potentially make out of spending an hour or two with the blond. You'd be able to pay rent, at least you half, and maybe save up a couple of dollars in the process as well.

If he did end up paying you for a simple talk, your night would probably end on a better note than you expected it too. You weren't a fan of what you did. Sleeping around for money was never your plan. But it had to do for now.

On top of that, he looked nice enough. He looked kind, a little childlike. He'd been a real sweetheart so far. He led light and civil conversation with you, even though he was well aware of what you did.

It was as if he was trying to look past that part of you, and even though it was who you were, for the time being, you were grateful for it. Everyone always looked at you in a certain way, disgusting way, just because of what you did. It was refreshing to see someone willing to look past that, if even for a little while.

"Or not." You offered in a seductive voice, just to mess with him a bit. It quickly fell and was replaced by a brow quirked in question. "You aren't a serial killer or something, right? Man don't usually go to pick up a hooker, so they could just "talk". You elaborated, and understanding flashed in his eyes before it quickly disappeared and was replaced by mirth.

"No, I'm not." There was a hint of amusement in his voice as you slowly made your way to the entrance of the hotel.

"What are you, then?" You tilted your head to the side in question. He looked like he struggled with the question for just a second before he shook his head and shrugged.

"Call me curious, if you will."

"Okay curious man, mind telling me your name?" his eyes widened at that, and he chuckled. He turned sideways and offered you his hand. You took it in your much smaller one and gave it a firm shake. His hand was warm, a bit rough, yet gentle when it collided with yours.

"Oh, where are my manners. My ma is probably rolling in her grave as we speak. I'm Steve," he joked and shook your head gently.

"Well, that sounds like an old man's name, Steve." You joked, nudging him with your elbow just a bit. It earned you another amused smile, which in turn made you smile wider.

"Are you saying that I'm old?" Far from it actually, he looked like he was in his early thirties at the very least, but you liked that he played along.

"No, but there's something about you that certainly gives off that vibe." He chuckled again, a low sound from the back of his throat. You got closer to the entrance, and he shed his suit jacket, draping it over you. You were about to ask why he did that when it hit you.

You were a prostitute, and a hotel like this, it didn't rent rooms by the hour. Being seen with someone like you was probably not something he wanted to be known. And you couldn't even fault him for it. You'd try and hide it too if you were in his shoes.

You pried the thought away, and quickly went back to your witty self. If the man was looking for a good time, then you'd gladly show it to him.

He stopped at the reception desk, while you waited on the side for a couple of moments. After a quick conversation with the woman at the desk, you both made your way towards the elevator. Upon entering, Steve pressed one of the buttons on the panel, and soon the elevator was going up.

The elevator ride was spent in silence one you didn't dare to break. You paid little to no attention to the numbers displayed on the panel, so when the doors opened to the top floor of the building, and the word "Penthouse" sounded from the speaker in the elevator, your eyes went a little wider.

You turned your face towards Steve's and flashed him a smirk. "The Penthouse?" you questioned in a low voice, before you got off the elevator with a careful step, "Fancy." At the end of the long hallway was a set of double doors. When you both stood in front of them, Steve stuck the keycard, and once the little light on the lock turned green, he pushed the door open.

When you entered, your eyes went around the room. Right across from you was a small living area, with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Beverly Hills. To your left was another small living room area, more so a library. To your right, was the hallway leading to the kitchen, with gorgeous brown shades. The rooms were painted in a nice beige color.

"Wow?" he asked, and you barely even spared him a glance, before replying with a "wow" of your own. He snickered and moved to the desk perked up on the right wall. You pulled his suit jacket off and draped it over the couch before you walked around.

"Now that we are here, what are you planning to do with me?" with a soft voice and a gentle touch, you ran your fingertips against the frame of a picture on the wall.

"To be honest, I don't know. I didn't plan this, actually." He lifted his head for just a second before he looked back down. You moved in his direction, and when you reached the desk, you propped yourself against it.

"Do you always plan everything?" he gave you his full attention at that, leaning back in the chair he was occupying. His brows scrunched up a little and he crossed his arms over his chest. His muscles bulged up against his white dress shirt. He looked deep in thoughts for a moment.

"Yes, I was in the army, I kind of had to." That explained a lot. Not only about his physique, but also his character as well. He was a bit quieter, but still a patient person. His composure was like no other you've ever seen, and he looked ready to play with you the whole night if he had to, in more than one way.

"The army, huh? I wonder, what was your rank?" your hand moved over his thigh, then up to his abdomen, where, even with the dress shirt on, you were able to feel the rock hard muscle.

"Captain. I was a Captain," he said it so casually, yet, you were able to pick on the light note of distress and sadness in his voice when he said it. He had mentioned the army in almost the same tone. It was a little strange, but you weren't about to pry. You were there to show him a good time, if he let you, not to ask about his past.

"Well then, _Captain_. I assume you are good at giving orders?" You pulled at his tie until he stood up from the chair. He was towering over you. His eyes racked over your body in a subtle matter, then settled themselves on yours again.

"I am," he breathed out, his breath hot against you.

"Let's see how good you are at following them, then." You whispered out, and your hands moved down and towards the front of his pants with a gentle movement. You were just about to open his belt when he took your wrists and stilled your movements.

"Why don't we relax first, talk for a bit?" He questioned. You rolled your eyes at him, and let go of his pants.

"Look, Steve. I'd love nothing more than for you to relax, but I'm on an hourly pay here, and you haven't even paid me yet."

"Time seems to be an issue for you, huh?" he crossed his arms again and stared down at you. "How much for the entire night?" he suddenly asked, and you paused for a moment. This man, gorgeous, and calm man, the same one that hadn't let you touch him yet, wanted you to spend the whole night with him.

You blinked a few times, and after you snapped out of your thoughts, you looked at him with wide eyes.

"You want me to stay here?" he nodded, his head tilting to the side a little.

"So, how much?"

"Seven hundred dollars." You declared, and suddenly his face pulled into a half-smile, half-smirk. It was a beautiful sight to see. The bell at the door rang, and Steve made his way over. He opened the door and let the server in. He put a bottle of champagne on the coffee table, followed by a tray of strawberries.

Steve tipped him, before he escorted him towards the door, and closing it behind him. He turned towards you with the same half-smile, half-smirk that colored his face mare seconds ago.

"Done." He concluded and walked over to the couch and sat on it, beaconing you to do the same. You were in for a treat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently working on chapter 2 and I hope to have it posted in a few days! I would love to here what you thought about this first chapter, so let me know!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [romaxnogersav](https://romaxnogersav.tumblr.com/)


	2. Gasps and Propositions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Between a night filled with gasps and moans, the morning brings unexpected propositions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, chapter two! It took a while, but it's finally here! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Huge shoutout to @donutloverxo on Tumblr for beta/proof reading this for me! And one to @jtargaryen18 on Tumblr too, for her nice advice that brought this one to life! 
> 
> Enjoy!💫

You made your way over, swaying your hips a little. He said he wanted to talk, but that didn't mean you couldn't seduce him. It's what you did, after all.

You sat down, mere inches away from him, your legs almost touching, but not quite. He filled a glass of champagne for you, before he gently handed it over, your fingers brushing in the process. You took a sip of the fluid, just one. Fancy drinks weren't your thing. Beer, whiskey, vodka even, you could go with. Champagne though, not so much.

You sat your glass down and reached for a strawberry. You brought the fruit close to your mouth, and the motion alone got Steve's attention. His eyes focused on how your lips wrapped around the red, sweet fruit before you bit into it, the sweetness of the berry flavor reaching your senses and you moaned softly in delight. You sucked on the juice, preventing it from slipping past your lips.

You were making a show, and both you and Steve were aware of that, but he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his pants tighten just a little.

You leaned back, crossed one leg over the other, and turned your body towards his.

"So, Steve. What brings you to the city of angels?" you asked, with genuine curiosity laced in your voice. You suspected it was work, but it could just as easily be anything else. He picked you from Hollywood Boulevard after all.

"Business," his answer was simple, followed by him draping an arm across the back of the couch.

“Just business?”

“I work a lot, but I love my job,” he shrugged.

"Ah, so you are a workaholic," you mused, your earlier suspicions making their way to the surface. "And what about a partner? Is there anyone in your life? A wife, girlfriend, boyfriend?" you smirked at your antics. You had to know who you were getting involved with. It's not like it wasn't evident that some of your previous clients were in a relationship while paying for your services. It never hurt to ask, even if it wasn't exactly your business.

He looked lost in thoughts for a while. In truth, Steve wasn't sure how he should answer the question. He wasn't married, briefly engaged once upon a time. He had just broken off a relationship, that in reality, didn't have a future either way. He looked like a total snob. But surely, you wouldn't judge him? You didn't look like that kind of person, even though your profession was a little questionable.

Who was he to pry, though?

It didn't take him more than a second to make up his mind before he was speaking.

"No wife, though there was a fiancée at one point in time. She's in London now, enjoying the English tea and Big Ben. My, now ex-girlfriend is in Brooklyn, packing her things after the relationship fell through last week. So, no. No partner, no wife, no significant other. Pathetic, if you ask me," he scoffed, and even though he didn't seem to be a fan of drinking, he picked up your still full champagne glass and downed it in one go.

"Not pathetic, maybe unlucky." You teased and scooted closer to him until your leg was almost touching his. The fabric of his blue suit pants rubbed softly against your bare skin. Your whole body leaned against his.

You pried the glass from his fingers and set it down on the table, then you reached up, hand wrapping around the delicate material of his tie. Your pointed finger slipped between the tie and his white crisp shirt, pulling gently, with a side to side motion. After you loosened the knot enough, you pulled the tie off him completely, discarding it somewhere behind you.

You lifted your gaze, eyes meeting Steve's. You knew he was watching you. You smirked. His eyes held yours, waiting patiently for your next move. He was taken aback by how careful you were. Given your profession, it wasn't something he expected.

He leaned back more, both hands sprawled over the back of the couch, him letting you be in charge. He was giving you full control. Letting you do with him as you please. Quite frankly, you didn't expect that, yet, you were pleasantly surprised.

Men, customers, as it was their right, wanted to be in control. They wanted to be the ones to set the pace, the ones to decide what you did, and how you did it. They were paying you, after all, so all you could do was let them lead the way. Of course, you had your limits, and they respected that. Most of them simply craved the control they were lacking in their life, would it be at work, or even in a relationship.

You didn't hate, or oppose to relinquish control to the person you were with, but with your job, you had to be careful. Some people just wanted far more than what you were comfortable with giving.

Steve though? He had no problem with letting you take the lead.

He was more than happy to let you do as you please, make him feel good. It's been a long time since he'd been in the company of a beautiful woman. Even though he was technically in a relationship up until recently, it didn't mean he was that intimate with his significant other.

If he was honest, all he wanted was to unwind, forget about his fucked up social circle. He loved his job and what he did, he loved the trips he had to take every once in a while. Something he wasn't overly fond of, was the people. The ones always talking in high standard, money, and etiquette. The same ones that looked down on people outside of the upper class.

He wasn't big on social gatherings either, but those did come with the job. He considered himself a bit of an introvert, a very private person, too. But he wouldn't trade his profession for the world. Maybe the people that ran in his circle, not his job.

Unlike Steve though, you liked having control in bed. It was rare, for sure, so you intended on enjoying every second of it. You had the freedom to navigate every step, and that alone excited you. It sent pleasant tingle down your spine. And it wasn't just because you were excited to take control. Taking control over Steve had something to do with it as well.

He was different. There was something about him, not just on the outside, but rather on the inside, that hinted that.

Most of your customers always rushed things, especially when they were the ones to lead the way. They were belittling, looked down at you as if you weren't a human being just like them. You thought you were beneath them too, because of what you did.

You have had people like him too, influential, bathed in money, but at the same time, so different than him.

He was patient. He wasn't rushing to be done, and throw you out. Why would he pay you for the whole night, if that was the case? No, he wanted something more than a rushed blowjob, and a hard fuck. He wanted some contact, he wanted someone to talk to. He wanted to feel like a person again, normal.

And you intended to do that for him. You wanted to please him, make him feel good. He'd be paying you a good amount of money for your service, so making things good was your top priority. Maybe, he'd want to hire you once more before he left Los Angeles. Or he'd want to when he came back if you weren't long gone by then.

You needed this to be good, not only for him but for yourself as well, for your future.

Your hands reached for his shirt next, popping the top button open.

You moved a leg over his thighs, straddling him. His hands settled on your hips, thumbs running in small, affable circles against the material of your short dress. The same dress that was bunched up, barely covering your clothed pussy.

You looked up, eyes searching Steve's. His were blown wide, his pupils dilated. You pried another button open, and one more followed soon after, all the while looking at the man before you.

Your tongue peaked out, wetting your lips. "You gotta know, I don't kiss on the mouth," you whispered out, wiggling your hips against his hardening length.

"Not a problem. Neither do I," he rasped, desperation clear in his voice, anticipation, and you just smirked.

You retreated your gaze, glancing down at the skin peeking from the half-open shirt. The expanse of his chest was covered in light brown hairs.

You leaned down, laying an open-mouthed kiss on his collarbone. You heard his sharp intake of breath, which only prompted you to do the same on the other side. You could feel his cock hardening against your core, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the slick pooling in your panties.

You popped a few more buttons open, all the while you ground your hips against his. He whined, and you felt a small tingle in your core. You had a feeling he'd be a vocal one, it made you question if maybe he was into dirty talk. Guess you'd have to wait and find out.

You brushed your lips against his peck, going lower until they met his nipple. You wrapped your lips around it, your tongue swirling against the hard peak.

You could feel his eyes on you, and you just knew he was following your every move like a lion did its' prey. And you weren't wrong.

Steve's eyes were locked on your every movement. Would it be your hands going lower, your mouth kissing his body, he watched and enjoyed every second of it. Your touches were careful, teasing, and it was driving him crazy. Still, he let you do what you wanted, watching you work.

You pulled his shirt free of his pants, opening it the rest of the way in a few swift movements. The material fell open, showing you what laid underneath. You guess he packed a nice body, even when he had the suit jacket on. 

Following the wide expanse of his chest, and the soft hair adorning his skin, was a pretty evident six-pack, highlighting his narrow waist. Your hands moved over the hard skin, his muscles flexing under your fingertips.

Lying a final kiss on his sternum, you slid down between his legs. You made quick work of his pants. Your hand sneaked into his underwear, wrapping around his shaft. His hips bucked against your hand, a soft groan falling from his lips. You pulled his cock free, running your thumb over the head, where a pearl of pre-come sat. He was impressive, not too long, but he was on the thicker side. You knew it would feel good, just by seeing him.

You jerked him a few times, feeling him harden even more under your fingertips. You looked him in the eyes, and with a smirk, followed by a wink, you finally leaned down. Your tongue darted out, licking a long stripe up the underside of his dick, where a thick prominent vein sat. You focused on the head next, giving it a couple of soft, kitten licks.

He whimpered under your gaze, and you saw his hand reach towards you before he caught himself and pulled it back. You took his hand in yours, guiding him towards the back of your head. You let his hand sit there, his fingers wrapping around your hair.

"Don't be too harsh," you murmured before you went back to work. You heard him hum in agreement, and you finally wrapped your lips around his tip. You hallowed your cheeks, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. With every bob of your head, you let him slide deeper until he hit the back of your throat.

What your mouth couldn't take, you used your hand on, and your free one played with his sack. His hips bucked against your hands, his hand a lightweight on the back of your head.

"Just like that," he cooed, and you moaned around him, your thighs closing, seeking some friction.

With his hand in your hair, your plump lips wrapped around his aching member, and your hand fumbling with his balls, you knew he wouldn't last long. All those teasing kisses you laid across his body, before finally giving him what he was so eagerly expecting, had riled him up more than he'd like to admit.

He hadn't been that turned on, that eager to reach his peak, in a long time. And he was sure it had something, everything to do with you, and what you were doing to him. With the way you touched him, the way your hand moved against his hardness, the way your mouth felt, wet and warm, and oh so good. It was driving him crazy.

You moved your mouth off him with a pop. Lips, swollen, eyes wide and glossy, you swirled your tongue over the angry red head of his cock. You dipped your tongue into his slit, tasting the pre-come that had gathered there.

A choked sob left the back of his throat at your motion, his hips buckling once more. His hand fisted your hair, pulling at the strands woven between his fingers. You could feel him getting closer towards his peak.

You wrapped your lips around him again, sucking on the tip, and pumping his shaft all at once. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, but you continued to take him in, hallowing your cheeks, and soon, you felt him twitch against your tongue before he spilled his seed inside your throat. He finished with a streak of moans and curses, and you swallowed down every last drop of his come.

His hand loosened, and you pulled off him with a little pop. You wiped at the corner of your reddened lips, where a bit of his seed was, and you made a show of licking your finger clean.

"Wow, you're good," he breathed, cringing at his own words. _What the hell, Rogers? Get a fucking grip!_

You laughed it off, pulling yourself up, "I'll take it as a compliment. Let's go sugar, I'm not done with you just yet," you whispered out, before you made your way down the hallway, looking for the master bedroom. You heard him hurry after you, and soon his hand settled on your hip, leading you towards the room you went in search of.

When you made it in, you pushed Steve to sit on the bed, settling yourself into his lap once again. You pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. His hands sneaked just under the material of your brunched up dress, pushing it upwards. You helped him pull it off, leaving you in your black undergarments.

His gaze ran up and down your almost naked form before he settled on your eyes again. One of his hands moved, his thumb glazing your bundle of nerves through your thin panties. Your breathing hitched, eyes fluttering. He could feel the wet patch, where you slick had gathered while you were pleasing him

"Is this okay?" he questioned in a small voice, repeating the motion. You had to bite back a moan this time, head tilting back.

"Yeah," you breathed out, and one of your hand settled on his neck, tangling in between the strands at the nape.

He continued to play with your clit, as you reached down and pulled the zipper of one of your boots before you took out a full assortment of condoms. You held them in front of him with a little smirk on your lips.

"Pick one. I have red, blue, green, white. I'm out of pink, though,"

He looked at you with amusement, before he started laughing. "Can you imagine me with a pink rubber over my dick?" he asked in between laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. You snorted, and a laugh followed.

"Honestly, no. Not really," you laughed again, laying your head on his shoulder. He pulled one of the condoms free from your grip. You reached behind you, unclasping your bra, and taking it off. Soon, your panties followed, as well as what was left of Steve's clothes.

You stood bare in front of one another.

"Go on, lean against the hardboard," you whispered, and he did just that. His cock was hardening once again, almost touching the taught muscle on his abdomen. You settled yourself between his knees, and one of your hands reached over and pumped his member a couple of times. Slow, yet gentle strokes, and a twist of your hand around the head, and soon, he was a shuttering mess.

You took the condom from his hand, only now seeing the color. Blue. You shook your head with a grin, before opening the foiled package. You rolled the latex on him, painfully slow, teasing.

After you were done, you straddled his thighs. Your hand sneaked down towards your core, intent on opening yourself a bit before you took him in. His hand wrapped around your wrist, ceasing your movements.

"Let me," he murmured, and you reluctantly moved your hand out of the way. In all honesty, you had always done that part yourself. In the last couple of months, you'd worked around as a hooker, only a handful of men wanted to take care of you before you moved to intercourse. Most of them enjoyed watching, far more than they enjoyed touching. One more thing that made Steve different.

His fingers ran gently against your outer lips, the motion making you shiver. You knew he could feel exactly how wet, how turned out you were. His middle finger moved along your slit before he slowly slid it in.

Your body arched into him, the single digit plucked into your heat making your head spin in the nicest way possible.

He pumped his finger in and out of you a couple of times before he added a second one. Your hips buckled into his hand then, followed by a loud moan, one you tried to keep in, but couldn't.

"That's right. Feels good, doesn't it," he cooed, and you just nodded a barely-there movement. Steve smiled at that, hearing the noises you were making all because of him, and his cock twitched between your bodies.

He scissored his fingers, unknowingly glazing a sweet spot inside you that made your whole body shudder. Your eyes rolled back, and all you could do was hang onto him.

You felt like you were floating, with how soft and slow his movements were. You were enjoying this. Something in the back of your head though, a nagging little voice, told you that you shouldn't, not with him.

There was nothing wrong with taking pleasure when you were with a client, but you were enjoying yourself far too much. This wasn't for you; it was for him. All you had to do, was finish your job here, take your money, and you'd never see him again. Taking so much pleasure in being with a man who was paying you to fuck him, wasn't something you were looking to regret later on.

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, stopping his movements. You pulled his fingers out, a low whine escaping the back of your throat. You scooted forward, and you reached between your bodies, taking hold of his cock. Bracing yourself on your knees on the mattress, you guided him towards your entrance, sinking into him. Inch by inch, his length filled your core, stretching your walls in the best way possible.

He could feel the way your warmth and wetness enveloped him, even through the condom. It sent a jolt down his body, the mere feeling of having you wrapped around him like that.

Once you were fully seated, you braced your hands against his chest and started rolling your hips against him. Your hands sneaked up to his shoulders, holding onto them as you started bouncing up and down on his cock. The stretch his dick offered your walls, was amazing. You felt impossibly full, and you knew it wasn't just because of the angle.

You started slowly, building the pace up. You rocked your hips, occasionally grinding them against his. With the position you were in, the head of his cock was hitting all the right places.

One of his hands left your hip, and settled on your breast, feeling the soft flesh. He pinched your nipple in between his fingers, and you whined, your back arching into his hand, seeking more. He obliged, repeating the motion, before his hand moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment.

You continued fucking yourself on his cock. Reaching back, you braced yourself on his thighs, feeling his muscles flex under your hands. He snapped his hips up against yours, meeting your thrusts. The change of angle allowed for his cock to brush against your g-spot, and you cried out in ecstasy.

"That's it, sweetness. Ride my cock, bring yourself off," he purred, delivering a particularly hard thrust, slamming himself even deeper into your velvet heat, shaking your whole body in the process. Your walls squeezed around him at his words, and a groan fell from his lips, the sound primal and loud.

He could feel you were getting closer, what with every hard thrust he gave you, your walls cramped around his length. His hands moved to your rear, squeezing at the tender flesh there. You couldn't keep quiet at that. With the feeling of his hands on your, his gaze roaming over your body, his cock filling you up to the brim, you felt the familiar coil in your stomach build up, getting ready to snap.

Breathy moans, the sound of skin slapping against skin, and the desire for release filled the room, along with the scent of your arousal.

His hand sneaked down to your clit, his thumb running in tight, slow circles, pinching the bundle in between his fingers every couple of seconds. You bounced faster, intent on making him come as hard as possible.

With the way you were gripping him, humping on his dick, it took mere seconds for him to come with a loud moan. He emptied his load into the condom, and you shuddered at the feeling of him twitching inside you, his breathing harsh against your chest. You soon followed him, reaching your climax with a few frantic huffs of air. Your thighs quivered, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

* * *

When you woke up the next morning, you needed a couple of seconds for your mind to register where you were, before you remembered you had spent the night in Steve's hotel room.

The other side of the bed was barely slept in, so you suspected he had taken residence in one of the other rooms in the penthouse, instead of the master one. It must have happened after you fell asleep because the last thing you remembered was him mentioning he'd take a shower before you drifted off to sleep.

You put a bathrobe on and slowly walked out of the room. You were able to hear the faint sound of Steve's voice, so with careful step, and your feet gently patting against the wooden floor, you followed it. It led you to the kitchen, where Steve sat, a phone nestled between his ear and shoulder, and a newspaper in front of him. His tie was undone, only looped around his neck, waiting for a knot to appear.

" _No, look, Tony, let's talk about it when I get there_ ," he muttered, flipping the page on the newspaper, eyes scanning over the words urgently, " _I just want to drink my coffee in peace, is all. I'll see you there_ ," he set the phone down on the counter, hands reaching for the pieces on both sides of his neck, "Morning," he greeted, startling you a bit. You weren't sure if he had heard you walking in, but apparently, he had.

You greeted him in turn, watching his struggle with the tie, "Let me do it," you suggested, slowly making your way over. His arms fell at his sides, and he took a step back, giving you enough space to squeeze between him and the island.

You half expected him to bring up the money he had left for you on the bedside table, seven hundred dollars in cash, but you were grateful he didn't. You didn't need to be reminded of how dirty you felt when you woke up to a fat load of cash in front of you.

"So, you never did tell me what you do for a living. I mean, you paid me for the whole night, so it must be paying well," you asked, working on finishing the knot of his tie.

"I'm an art buyer."

"So you just, buy art pieces?"

"And offer them to art collectors, or to people who enjoy their beauty. I get hired to find rare, one of a kind pieces as well," he clarified, simply enough so you didn't get confused.

"So, you are here on a mission?"

"Yeah, you could say that. I'm here to purchase a few pieces for a client, looking to add a modern touch to their home."

"Interesting," you muttered, before you ran a hand down the length of his now done tie, "All done." He thanked you, a little smile on his face, blue eyes gleaming in the morning sun. Before he could say anything else his phone rang. He gave you an apologetic smile.

* * *

Steve picked up the phone with a sigh, glaring at the name on his screen.

" _Yes, Tony_?" he was irritated. Tony Stark has been Steve's friend for as long as he could remember. Steve had just enlisted in the army when they first met when Tony was still in the weapon's manufacturing business. Even after he exchanged the uniform for nice tailored suits and the gun for a pencil, they still stayed in touch. Years later, and they were still pretty good friends, even though Tony was a bit too much from time to time. He was also a welcome distraction every once in a while, but Steve would never admit it.

" _Listen, now that Sharon's out of the equation, I can find you a gorgeous lady for the week. I know a lot of nice girls_ ," he claimed cheerfully. Steve should have known he'd call about something such as this. It was in his nature to pry in someone else's business and to try and set Steve up with someone.

" _No, you know girls that are nice in bed. You never stayed around long enough to know if they are nice_ ," he mused, and the girl next to him gave him a side-eye glance. He gave her one as well, and his lips pulled upward at the idea forming in his mind. He wasn't sure she would agree, but he'd be happy if she was the one to escort him on his outings this week. She'd be a breath of fresh air amongst the socialists he found himself around usually.

" _Plus, I already have someone in mind_ ," he continued, fully turning towards her, a playful glint in his eyes. She looked at him in question, eyes wide, making him chuckle, " _I'll see you soon, Tony_ ," he ended the call, leaning against the counter.

"Did you – Did you mean me?" she had a hard time believing it but knew she had to ask, even if he didn't mean her and she made a fool of herself.

"Yes, I did. I have a proposition for you. I have to make a few public appearances this week, and I need someone to escort me. So, how would you feel about spending the week with me?" she was stunned, even more than she was when he said he wanted her services for the whole night. She has never been paid for more than three hours, let alone a whole week. But spending a whole week with him on a payroll meant she could make enough money, to finally leave this life behind. The sleepless nights working on the streets, selling her body, and faking her pleasure for other people. She clutched into that possibility, when, finally she spoke up.

"You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?"

"Yes, I do."

"Look, I'd love to do it, but you could get any girl and for free. Tony, was it, suggested hooking you up with a "nice girl", or well, nice in bed at least."

"I want someone I wouldn't have to worry, would catch feelings. So, give me a number."

"Eight thousand," she stated easily. It sounded like enough to get her started if she did decide to put an end to being a prostitute, and moved out of Los Angeles.

"Six nights, each costing seven hundred isn't eight thousand."

"You want my service for six full days. Six days and nights at seven hundred is eight thousand and four hundred. I'm giving you a discount," she shrugged. Steve shook his head in amusement, walking towards the bedroom to pick his suit.

"Seven thousand," he bargained, while she picked up the suit jacket and helped him put it on.

"Seven thousand and five hundred."

"Alright," he agreed and watched as her eyes widened a lot, her lips falling into an "O". He laughed, and took out his wallet, handing her some cash, "I need you to buy some evening wear, a dress. There's a cocktail party tonight. Nothing too sexy or extravagant," he advised, pocketing his wallet again.

"So a grandma's clothes?" her remark made him laugh, even though he didn't want to.

"Something elegant would suffice. Anything else?"

"What happens if I call you Stevie?" you played with him, a cute smirk on your lips, He turned abruptly, getting into your personal space.

"It depends on the context," he whispered, and just like that he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [romaxnogersav](https://romaxnogersav.tumblr.com/)


End file.
